


Betrayed

by Ysoi6x6yuri



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Anal Sex, Aomine Daiki Being an Asshole, Bottom Kise Ryouta, Gang Rape, Kagami Taiga Being an Idiot, M/M, Model Kise Ryouta, One-sided Aomine Daiki/Kise Ryouta, Out of Character, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Top Aomine Daiki, Top Kagami Taiga, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23392234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysoi6x6yuri/pseuds/Ysoi6x6yuri
Summary: Kise Ryouta had never felt so betrayed into all of his life.
Relationships: Aomine Daiki/Kise Ryouta, Kagami Taiga/Kise Ryouta
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	Betrayed

**Author's Note:**

> So. Sometimes images and songs take out my masochistic side...and... Oh well. Poor my baby Kise. I can be a real bitch with him, dear, dear Angel.
> 
> Well. Actually I'm italian. I Don't know how many errors are on this thing. And I want to say that I would love if someone would point them out :)
> 
> Well, that's It. This Is the second One Shot that I post on knb fandom. Hope somehow you'll like it

It all started from a fucking shot.

Kise was used to hot and sexy poses, perverse solicitations, requests to be posted on Japanese magazines to make some girls drool and to make men (who were intrigued by him) masturbate - There were many, as many were the dirty letters that they sended to him to read among the fans - but in that precise photo the blonde had come out so well and so ... Sensual, so erotic ... that anyone on his staff had congratulated him, all while they had been extremely sure that this would have given yet another boost on the market to the young model.

In fact, it had been just like that: Ryouta's photograph, his arms stretched, his bare back arched with extreme grace, while a thread of light went to illuminate and give shape to his profile, making the amber's gaze glisten, all while a collar held him back, well... he had made a beautiful figure.

The newspapers had described him as a fallen angel, unable to reach paradise, and in fact this had been the goal that the photo should have given, actually.

In short, at first it seemed that that single photo had been a subspecies of blessing, especially for his expressive talent.

Job offers had arrived to Kise from practically everywhere and the photographer himself had received many requests for precise shots, all based on the blond obviously, since the world seemed to want more than those two talents putted together.

But then, when the worst had come to hit him and make him fall from that twirling position in which Kise Ryouta had felt, it had happened in the worst possible way.

It had been a Sunday, a Sunday that had appeared quiet, without any kind of problem, indeed.

One of the few days of break from weeks of small hours had appeared and, above all, it had seemed like a joy, since he could finally meet again the group of the Generation of Miracles, he could play again one on one with Aominecchi, as he hoped to do again for a long time ... And, despite everything, despite all the times when he had denied his emotions towards the blue boy, his heart had beaten with joy into accelerated thoughts, so much so that the blonde had finished even with having the feeling of his hands trembling, struggling to decide his outfit, almost turning his entire wardrobe upside down.

After choosing for a light blue tank top, the usual necklace with three rings that he could not appreciate and a pair of dark gray tight jeans, covering his face with mask, glasses and a hat, the boy was gone, forgetting in the hurry the phone in the house and remembering at the least, but choosing to let it go - after all he remembered the meeting place very well, he only hoped that they would not change it at the end of the minutes, in short. And going home again to get the cell phone, doing all the way again would have made him really, really late - and proceeding almost running.

He had been at a red light on a small, half-empty road when he had suddenly felt grasped from behind.

He had barely made a high-pitched sound of surprise - which he would have been embarrassed if it weren't for the situation he was in - then a hand with a handkerchief rested on his face with a force that instantly raised his fear in his veins, making him open his eyes like never before.

He had tried to fight, to wriggle, to kick, to scratch, but the smell from the piece of cloth, which had been soaked, made him loose consciousness, one sense after the other, making him like a doll in the arms of the aggressor , who after all dragged him away.

Everything happened without being even noticed, the lack of passers-by had been fatal.

And he had therefore woken up in that black room, with a bed underneath, a collar to which a chain was attached ... A scenario that made him understand on the fly, also because the blankets that had been used to cover the mattress were purple, just like those in the photo.

There were no coincidences. In the world, when a photograph was taken, replicating it in this way, as if you were doing a cosplay, was never a coincidence.

The only problem, in this case, was that ... It wasn't a cosplay. It was not a damned video on Tik Tok or on the Internet.

Kise had been kidnapped: not even the effort to disguise had served to let him away without problems.

Generally it worked with the paparazzi, but it seemed that this time it hadn't gone so well, unfortunately, not enough to get him to his friends without being kidnapped and taken away by a stranger who ...

A stranger who had undressed him and tied him to a fucking bed.

A stranger who must have premeditated everything, since he had brought a handkerchief soaked in sleeping scent.

A stranger who ... had to know which way he used to go to avoid people as much as possible when he was in a hurry ... And Kise was not one of those who spoke of similar facts out loud if not with very close friends.

So, concluding the reasoning, the blonde must have been observed with total attention, with a stalker study by the person who had brought him to that place.

He knew that fans, some of them, could be particularly sick at times, to the point of reaching similar gestures ... But he certainly would not have expected it to happen to him, he would not have believed in the least if he had not been in this kind of event... And the idea filled him with shame for his naivety in believing that there would be no reason to do such a thing, this because despite the fame, the majority of his fans had never been so uncontrollable, on the contrary, he even had people on his blog who defended him from the dirty series of sentences or insults that could be sent to him.

But in fact, his naivety had only directed him in the wrong way and the bubble that surrounded him had totally exploded, making him gasp like a fish out of water, all while trying to free himself in some way from the chains, looking in the twilight any key with his eyes, hoping that with the pull of his arms, at least a little, the chains would move.

A useless hope, since these were perfectly stable and hard enough to withstand any pressure, strongly opposing to the break.

With this desperate movement, in the meantime, no matter how hard Ryouta had tried not to make any noise, the constant metallic jingles brought the door of the room to open suddenly, making his gold eyes jump, extremely wide open in a terror that moved along the his skin and went to take root in his flesh, of the boy in his direction, all while paralyzing himself on the spot, even stopping breathing.

What, with pure terror, the blonde's gaze captured, were two people, both males, dressed in cheeky clothes, the faces covered with masks, similiar to the one wich was used by thieves in a supermarket, with space only for the eyes and the mouth.

Both of them had a good size and looked muscular under the fabrics they wore.

Neither of them spoke, but the pair of strangers glanced at each other only, this before moving closer to the bed, not with the attitude of someone who wanted to free him, certainly not.

Kise immediately tried to crawl against the wall, crumpling his legs, also naked like those of a newborn baby, to cover his intimacy, both of them, immediately resuming on pulling the chains in the hope that they would yield : he knew it was impossible, but it was the only way for him not to surrender to what, every second more, seemed the inevitable, so much so that he felt his heart beat a thousand beats in his ribcage and his eyes already burning, all because fear was scratching him to the point that he would have liked to be able to throw it all out, he would have liked to be able to disappear.

But the hands of the two strangers reached him even before he was psychologically ready for It - perhaps he would never have been, so in a sense that they had come before or after, they would always have caught him unprepared - and startled, starting to wiggle as much as possible , immediately beginning to pray, both mentally and aloud.

He prayed that nothing would happen, that they would leave him alone, that they would not touch him, but it seemed that the two of them ignored his cries, or more than anything else, his lamentations broken by anguish, submitting him easily with their strength of arms, going to hold his legs in such a way that he felt that the two could break them even with just another addition of strength, not even these were appetizers.

One of the two, Ryouta saw him with a sense of disgust that ran through his entire throat, seemed to be already hard in his pants: he could see his erection rising from the black cloth.

The other instead, the one who seemed stronger than the two, so much so as to have that iron grip on his bare thighs, still showed no sign of excitement, not for that moment ... But he feared when this would come.

Kise stopped breathing even more when the first of the two brought a hand to the bulge of the pants, taking the member out, slowly, starting to massage it with circular movements, already panting and immediately approaching his legs necessarily open.

A shiver of nausea, fear and anguish ran through his spine, so much so that he immediately tried to raise his voice, to try to be noticed by any person who was out of there, receiving only a grin from the strongest of the two, a bad smile which seemed to be making fun of him... making fun of him and his undeniable despair.

The blood drummed in his temples, obsessive and dangerously hot ... and his eyes opened to the point of improbable gaze at the too slow progress - perhaps slow for him, he could not understand if his brain was slowing everything down because of his anxiety - of the man with his entire length into his hand, more and more directed towards his orifice... and then they moved for a few seconds on the second person, still motionless, almost begging him to stop everything, even though he was the one who smiled at him in that disgustingly perverse way.

He hoped they would change his mind, he really hoped for it, but they were vain desires and this was confirmed to him when his entrance was crossed with violence, without any preparation.

A scream of pain escaped his lips, all while his eyes burned even more than before, shiny and red, despite the fact that he had to hold back his tears and, in fact, not a drop of tears had yet run through his face.

The anal penetration made him stay as if something had torn his entrails in two and was putting an incandescent object in them, burning them mercilessly.

His eyesight blacked out for a few moments, then came back on, his lips wide, hid eyes increasingly red, with the trembling of his limbs, almost like leaves.

Kise could feel, after a few moments when the stranger settled in him, the beginning of his movements.

Forward, backward, forward, backward.

Kise felt him move forward and back with force, literally driving him crazy because of an increasingly intense burning in his entrails, not even being able to find a little pleasure in all this, not even a minimum, not even the slightest nuance.

It only hurt, so bad, while this man took him and slammed into him carelessly, as if the only thing that mattered to him was his wanting to come, nothing more, as if Ryouta was not a person but an object soulless to selfishly take a lead on, a pastime toy.

The pleasure grunts of the first of the two flooded into his ears: revolting noises for the blonde, who had come to close his eyes tightly so as not to look, not to notice the reddish brown light that seems to illuminate the beast's gaze who was violating him so roughly, proceeding with his all too rhythmic and dedicated movements.

And then Kise paralyzed himself, prevented himself from moving a muscle, from making any kind of sounds.

It hurt, but the blond certainly knew it would end sooner or later, it couldn't last forever, right?

He hoped it would end as soon as possible, prayed to be left alone, even if only left on a street.

He would not have talked to the police about it, he would not even have attempted it, knowing very well that he would not be able to describe them and, above all , news of this kind could have easily sent his career to hell.

Ryouta's mind went to attach himself to the image of his friends, desperation instantly enveloped him at the idea of how worried they should be for him, for his disappearance ... And his heart skipped a beat at the mental image of Daiki.

A particularly strong push, in any case, made him return to reality, together with yet another grunt of disgusting pleasure from the first kidnapper, who found the right point to sink even more into him.

And with this, he realized that the second of the two also brought out his erection.

It was big.

It was too much big... and Ryouta felt it invade his mouth, all while the rapist's hands went to abuse his hair, pulling it backwards to give himself stability while fucking his mouth.

The blond gasped and felt the desire to be able to vomit that went up and down in his stomach, all while his tongue sensed the salty taste of the member who dragged on it in a torture that managed to tear out the first tears from his eyes.

"It's too much"

All of this was too much, he could not escape from the present even with the brain because it was all so real and sudden that he perceived only the movements in him and the total lack of air, all while feeling choked.

This was not how Kise Ryouta had imagined his first time bottoming while having sex.

He had always fantasized about how Aomine would have laid him on the bed, would have kissed him passionately, caressing him as something precious and totally his and only his, to be jealous of if someone had tried to even touch him with a finger.

He had imagined that he would tell him how much he loved him, all as he pushed into him, their fingers intertwined, the bed creaking, their tongues seeking each other in an affectionate dance.

It would have been delicate, but at the same time full of passion, like a Waltz, in a union of unconditional love .

But that ... That wasn't exactly what had just happened.

The first kidnapper's orgasm erupted into his insides, gushing and filling them , making rise only the urge to vomit into his mouth.

The cumm was hot, extremely hot, roughly as hot as the stuffy temperature that was in that room.

The first rapist came out of his body with a satisfied groin, going to place one hand on the other man's shoulder, as if to say that for him it had ended there, making his head turn to the other, who simply nodded, the same identical grin on his face, stopping to move himself into Kise's mouth and moving to where the other had been before, not thinking twice about pushing himself in, making the victim scream freely, while saliva began to run down his chin.

If it had previously appeared to the blonde that the first of the two had been violent, this did not prove less only because somehow he had had the "ground" ready, indeed.

The whole opposite.

The thrusts become more aggressive and the latter even goes to turn him, making his face sink into the mattress, weighing on him to the point that Ryouta seemed to be dying crushed, suffocating until he complained desperately, with the chain that was going to leave reddish marks on his breastplates.

And mostly, as if owning him wasn't enough, the man would bite him until it bleed, licking his soft and pale skin, tasting it with pleasure and branding it insistently.

Whether Kise wanted it or not, the rapist's hands went to caress his member, to massage him with something slow, playing with the chapel, trying to excite him obviously, perhaps for the sake of making him enjoy despite the lack of acceptance of the thing that was going on, succeeding and thus increasing only the shame - now impossible to restrain - of the model in question.

Yes, he enjoyed the touches, but the fact was that he felt himself with every caress a little more dirty, hating his voice as he had never done before, as he had never imagined he could do: he was not the type to have a low esteem of himself, indeed, he knew perfectly well that he was charming. He never boasted about it, because he simply knew that despite his beauty, well, he had never obtained the heart of the person he loved most: not being a woman, it was not possible for him, but he still had respect for his features and the hint of honey that had its tone.

That was the first moment when he felt the opposite: he felt a pure nausea in how he moaned , disgust in how exactly his body reacted to those contacts never wanted by any person of not by Aomine, the vomit rising on his throat in how his erection was formed, all while sweat was flowing on his skin and the grunts of the kidnapper followed one another in his ears like in a mantra.

Kise's tears slipped again and again, throwing themself silently on the mattress, his sobs were interrupted by the gasps and his incompressible tremors marked the seconds that passed inexorably, all while the pushes persisted with power, trying to give more and more power in each , venting all his sexual frustration.

It took some time before the second rapist came too, that his orgasm poured into his interior, joining that of the previous man, rolling a single word out of his lips.

<< Ryouta >>

Kise became paralyzed on the spot at those six letters, while his brain was aware of how extremely familiar that voice was, how well he knew it to the point of understanding who had spoken.

The blood froze in his veins, despite the fact that, well, the pleasure rose at the height for him too, to the point of spilling on the covers, trembling convulsively.

"No. It's not true ... It can't be ... It can't be him"

Yet he heard the voice again, which again said his name before looking for his mouth and bringing a kiss to which the boy could not answer, increasing the horrible sensation that had already upset him, but going to amplify it a thousand times more.

It was a voice that he would have recognized everywhere, because it was the one he had often imagined in his erotic fantasies, the one that every day he had always hoped he would call his name, the one he had always begged to hear on the phone to tell him something that would bring to an end his worry for an obvious unrequited love.

In less than ten seconds, the blonde found himself on the verge of a mental chaos: there was the part of him that wanted to make himself blind from the truth, to illude himself that it was not real, that the person for whom he had spent almost half of his life trying to have unconditional love did any of this shit, he had not just kidnapped and raped him, that his mind was gone and he was just imagining Aomine's voice ... And then, there was the second part of him which already knew it all.

He knew it was him: his voice, his strong hands, that blue gaze that had fixed him with malice and perversion, accompanied by the evil grin when he had hoped for salvation ...

It was Daiki. His Daiki. Him ... Why?

He had always been in love with him, Kise had always hoped for a sign... But this?

Being violated? By him? With even another person and against his will?

Ryouta wanted to know why.

Why he did this to him?

He wished he could understand.

He wished he hadn't felt the pain that weighed on his chest.

He wished that everything was not real, just as he had kept hoping all the time, but the suffering was too lively, too real to allow him even to put out such a possibility.

He perceived the exit of Aomine from his body, while the boy was silent, managing to do two plus two also with regard to the second person who had collaborated: the stature had been extremely similar to that one of Daiki, that type of muscular build that it was obtained with hard training, then there was the reddish look ... The reddish look, already.

The same look that he had found against in many basketball games.

That look in which he had previously seen a friend and an opponent, a challenge, a teammate even, when the Generation of Miracles challenged themselves in groups for fun.

"Kagamicchi ..."

Kise Ryouta had never felt so betrayed into all of his life.


End file.
